


A Perfect Failure

by iWantMyDrumfredBack (BornBlue)



Series: Drummond Is Not Dead [8]
Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Drumfred needs all the help they can get, Edward Drummond Lives, M/M, No Romance, Not Canon Compliant, but we're moving the plot along, hopefully with some amusing details along the way, this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 05:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14325774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornBlue/pseuds/iWantMyDrumfredBack
Summary: Lord Alfred discovers the difficulties in playing matchmaker.





	A Perfect Failure

Alfred was hopeful. His conversation with Harriet and her declaration of support had lifted his spirits immeasurably. Apart from his personal regard for her, the best thing about having Harriet Sutherland-Leveson-Gower on his side was that she knew _everyone_. And as Duchess of Sutherland by marriage and member of the powerful Howard family by birth, she was related to many among the highest tiers of British society, so her influence was considerable. His heart was filled with optimism in the wake of their new understanding.

 

Indeed, Harriet was as good as her word. It was too soon for she herself to attend the ball—especially as it was being given by her late husband’s sister, the Duchess of Norfolk. However, she made certain that Miss Coke accepted the invitation, and then proceeded to help her select her dress and the style for her hair. By the time Harriet walked her down the steps of the palace to Alfred and the waiting carriage, Wilhelmina looked positively fetching. Alfred thought she might very well attract some romantic attention, yet he remained nervous about the evening ahead.

 

____________________

 

As it turned out, he had reason for worry. Miss Coke, while not exactly awkward, hadn’t really mastered the fine art of flirting; he found that her attempts frequently fell flat. The gentlemen Alfred managed to introduce her to at the ball, while polite, did not seem particularly enthusiastic about her company.

 

His first attempt at matchmaking involved Harriet’s relative—the younger Norfolk son—Edward Fitzalan-Howard, who was Miss Coke’s partner for a quadrille early in the evening. While he was exceedingly handsome and unfailingly courteous, their conversation was brief and, from the distance where Alfred observed it, appeared rather uncomfortable. When speaking with the young man later, Alfred gathered that he found Miss Coke a bit prosaic and was further put off by her familial association with the Tories. And indeed, it looked as if he were avoiding her for the remainder of the evening.

 

The Duke of Wellington’s sons were both there, and of course had no objection to her Tory affiliations. The trouble with the elder son, Arthur Wellesley, Marquess of Duoro, came upon his realization that the Duchess of Bucchleuch was her aunt. All of a sudden, the young man looked as if he had tasted a lemon, and found an excuse to beat a hasty retreat from Wilhelmina’s company.

 

On the other hand, Lord Charles Wellesley, his younger brother, didn’t seem to mind her relation to the Duchess in the least, and was perfectly amiable. However, as the evening went on, Alfred noticed that one Augusta Pierrepont, the dark-haired daughter of an obscure diplomat, seemed to exert a magnetic pull on Charles with her opalescent green eyes. He seemed always to be either at her side or headed that way—presenting her with glasses of champagne, adding himself to her dance card, engaging her in animated conversation. Alas, Alfred didn’t see great hope in  _that_ bachelor remaining eligible for much longer.

 

Three names crossed off his—already modest—list of potential suitors. 

 

____________________

 

As the evening progressed, Lord Alfred found that Miss Coke did not seem inclined to engage any other young men in extensive conversation. She found reasons to be at his side with annoying constancy. In his mind, it undermined the whole purpose of the evening. It was a relief when she finally found someone else to latch onto for a time: a small group of young society ladies that she knew. They were comparing notes over mutual acquaintances—including, apparently, the "poor" Miss Florence Kerr. Alfred certainly wished to remove himself from their proximity as expediently as possible, so he took advantage of the opportunity to slip off.

 

The only other suitor at the ball who he had singled out was the Viscount William Pole-Tylney-Long-Wellesley—nephew of the Duke of Wellington, cousin to the aforementioned Arthur and Charles, and possessor of an impressively long surname. Unfortunately, he also had a scandalous father—famous as a rake and a spendthrift—whom the young man had been forced to drag into court over his late mother’s property. It made him somewhat awkward at these events: he never seemed to know whether he had been invited in spite of the family scandal or because of it, and his behavior could be a bit odd as a result. But he was well-connected and seemed to have a good heart—more like his mother than his notorious father—and Alfred thought his idiosyncrasies might blend well with Miss Coke’s, provided his melancholy was not overwhelming.

 

He found the Viscount standing by himself, near one of the heavily-draped windows looking onto the gardens. He appeared lost in a daydream, yet noticed Alfred approaching. “Lord Alfred,” he said, even as he looked away once again to gaze at the topiaries out the window, “I wonder whether you might settle a point of confusion for me.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Is the Prince’s regiment the 10th Hussars, or the 11th?”

 

“The 11th. Why do you ask?”

 

“Oh, no reason; just wondering.”

 

Every dialogue in which he’d ever engaged William had begun in an unusual way. As he showed no signs of saying anything more, Alfred took the reins. “Lord Wellesley, I see your uncle, the Duke, at court frequently these days; he looks well.”

 

“Yes. I suspect he’s one of those old men who will die with his boots on, never slowing down. His energy is quite remarkable. He often exhausts me.”

 

“Indeed, and still such keen political insights. He always seems to have his finger on the pulse of the nation,” Alfred continued.

 

“I suppose that’s true. I don’t follow politics very closely, I’m afraid. Not really my cup of tea, you know,” the Viscount trailed off as he returned to looking out the window.

 

“Nor mine,” Alfred was trying to keep the exchange alive long enough to steer it toward Miss Coke. “I’m much more suited to palace politics. And the Queen presides over a most engaging court.”

 

“Yes, I would probably prefer that myself, were I inclined to royal pomp. At least I would escape the tiresome debates over policy. Corn Laws, railways, the Irish, France—it all seems so… intractable and dull.”

 

He had forgotten what a considerable challenge it was to keep William from raining gloom over any possible discourse.

 

“The visitors Her Majesty entertains are always interesting. And I must say, I find the company of my fellow courtiers most delightful. The Queen’s maid of honour, for one, is quite personable and charming. And she plays the piano beautifully.”

 

“Oh?” The Viscount was well known as an ardent music lover. “What composers?”

 

“She’s quite versatile. She seemed to select mainly Chopin for a time, but we have recently been practicing a lovely Mozart duet, and I find she has a distinctly sensitive feel for his music.”

 

“Hmm. I haven’t quite decided my feelings on Chopin. There seems to be an overindulgence there, yet I find his melodies hauntingly beautiful. Of course, one can never go wrong with Mozart. Such depth and grace.”

 

Ah, yes, music seemed to be just the topic that could lead the Viscount and Miss Coke into a fruitful conversation. But since the young man was notoriously shy of groups, Alfred needed to engineer an intimate exchange were there to be any chance of a promising connection. He looked to see whether Wilhelmina was still engaged with her coterie of young ladies, and was pleased that she appeared to be excusing herself. Now seemed like an excellent moment.

 

“Perhaps I might introduce you? She is in attendance this evening.”

 

“Very well. She doesn’t sound objectionable.” _He does have an unusual way with words,_ thought Alfred, while leading Lord Wellesley to the other side of the room. As Miss Coke noticed their approach, Alfred nodded in an attempt to beckon her toward them, but much to his chagrin it was another signal she seemed to misinterpret. Instead of joining them, she turned back excitedly to her friends and extended her hand to Lord Alfred so that he might meet them. He groaned inside—this was _not_ what he had intended—but the die was cast. He would have to do his best to spirit her away as quickly and gracefully as possible.

 

“Pardon me, ladies; I wonder whether I might borrow Miss Coke for a moment?” He kept the Viscount standing slightly behind him, in hopes he might pull her away easily for a private introduction. But one of the young ladies seized on his arrival, declaring excitedly, “Miss Coke, you must introduce us to this distinguished gentleman.” There was no getting around it now. 

 

“With pleasure!” Wilhelmina turned to him. “Lord Alfred Paget, may I introduce you to Miss Charlotte Hester—” he made a small bow to each lady in turn, as they offered him a slight curtsy “—Miss Isabella Ramsbottom, and Lady Georgiana Cholmondeley.”

 

“Delighted. And may I introduce the Viscount Wellesley,” he said, ushering William carefully toward the group of ladies. He could feel the young man’s hesitation as he made a rather abbreviated and unenthusiastic nod in their general direction.

 

Though Alfred had introduced him as quickly as possible, hoping not to draw attention to his identity, Lady Cholmondeley's ears perked up. “Oh, but is your father Lord William Pole-Tylney-Long-Wellesley? The Earl of Mornington?”

 

This was a bad turn of events. Alfred could feel poor William shrinking back a bit. His father and the scandals he had brought upon the family were topics definitely to be avoided.

 

“Yes, he is,” Alfred replied on his behalf, and attempted to quickly change the subject. “Miss Coke, I was telling the Viscount about our Mozart duet. He is a great lover of music.”

 

Lady Cholmondeley had turned to another of the ladies and whispered in her ear, after which Miss Ramsbottom chimed in, “Is it true, sir, that your infamous father absconded with furnishings from your mother’s estate through a first floor window? Like a common thief? The story was nearly unbelievable—like something one might read in a book!”

 

Alfred was scrambling now, “Why, that was such a long time ago. I’m sure Lord Wellesley would rather discuss the intricacies of Mozart or Chopin. Miss Coke, I believe you have become quite the expert on Chopin’s nocturnes. Which is your favorite?”

 

But William had apparently reached his limit and interjected, “If you’ll forgive me, my cousin appears to be summoning me.” Alfred saw neither Arthur nor Charles anywhere in the vicinity, but before he could find a way to keep the Viscount by his side, he had given a curt little nod and was disappearing across the room and through the door. Alfred sighed.

 

Four names crossed off his list.

 

And so it was that Alfred’s first outing as a matchmaker was a perfect failure.

 

____________________

 

The carriage ride after the ball seemed interminable. All he wanted to do was leave the evening behind and fall into bed. While Miss Coke chattered on—about the excitement! the fashion! the _grandness_ of it all!—he could barely take in her words. He felt exceedingly weary as he stared at the night sky. The hazy clouds passing in front of the bright moon seemed to be cruelly mocking him somehow.

 

 _This,_ he thought, _is going to be harder than I imagined._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Historical note regarding the minor characters:
> 
> Each of the 4 potential suitors is based on an actual person from history, though I may have played with a few details (for instance, by this scene in 1846, Lord Charles Wellesley was already married to Augusta Pierrepont). They each have a Wikipedia page if you want to read more about any of them. The story of William Pole-Tylney-Long-Wellesley, 5th Earl of Mornington (though in 1846, still a Viscount, as his father was alive), sounds particularly salacious. If anyone knows of a book about his family, I'm all in to read more. 
> 
> Generally speaking, the young ladies are named for young women who would have been in the general vicinity of the fictional Wilhelmina's age, or--as in the case of Isabella Ramsbottom--is a mix. But Ramsbottom is a real surname I encountered, so how could I resist?! I'm sure it's no surprise to anyone that none of the women had their own Wikipedia page. :-(


End file.
